


You can fall into my arms

by wittchingswriting



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Pregnant, Pregnant Clarke, Slow Build, sorry for the angsty parts, supportive bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 20:46:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3824518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wittchingswriting/pseuds/wittchingswriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based on prompt: “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	You can fall into my arms

It was such a small thing, Clarke mused, such a small, ordinary thing, a simple plastic stick, that would decide over the rest of her life. She was sitting on the edge of the bathtub in Octavia’s apartment and staring at the white plastic in her hand, waiting for a little green plus to appear and seal her fate. 

The lump in her throat made it impossible to swallow and her heart ached and throbbed like these were its last beats. She couldn’t think about what to do if this turned out the way she was suspecting, she simply couldn’t!

She looked up and met her gaze in the mirror. Her face was drained of all blood and she looked small and scared and she hated it. There was no sound to be heard in the apartment, only a faint humming of the dishwasher in the kitchen. It was almost peaceful. 

Clarke had chosen this time of day deliberately because she knew Octavia would be out for the day and Lincoln had to work late, so she would be on her own, no chances of Raven suddenly barging in and finding her like this, with a fucking pregnancy test in her hand. It was then that she looked back down at the white plastic tube in her hand and saw the result. 

Well shit.

She didn’t know how long she had been sitting there, staring at the white tiles opposite of her, her vision blurring in and out of focus, not able to conceive what this meant. It couldn’t be right, it had to be a mistake, a false alarm. But deep in her heart she felt that the test was right, that she had known all along. 

When she heard a key turn in the lock she didn’t move, she only closed her eyes, trying to break through the numbness that had taken hold of her. She heard someone move about the apartment, probably Lincoln judging by the heaviness of the footsteps, and bustle through the kitchen. 

When the door suddenly opened she jumped and so did the man who was standing in the doorway, looking down at her with a perplexed expression. 

“Fuck I’m sorry, the door wasn’t locked”, he began. Clarke got up from the cold tiles. “Bellamy”, she greeted, trying her best to compose herself. Judging by his facial expression though she wasn’t doing such a great job. 

“Clarke, what are you –“, his eyes followed her movement as she quickly shoved the test into her back pocket. She prayed to all the gods out there that he hadn’t seen what it was. 

“Nothing, I… I’m not feeling too well, I just wanted to be alone for a little bit…”, that was at least half the truth. He looked at her funnily but he didn’t say anything. They had never been alone together, she noted. 

Bellamy, Octavia’s older brother, had only moved to the town here a few months ago, to start a new job as a professor at University. Clarke had disliked him at first, his smug expression and sarcastic remarks at basically anything, his constant air of feeling better than everybody else had driven her up the wall for the first few weeks until she had gotten to know him a little better. 

They’d had fought a lot in the beginning, “clashes of interest”, as Octavia would call them, but the two of them knew better, that their rivalry was mostly just a power play to see who could strain the nerves of the opposite more, who would snap first. 

In the last weeks their bickering had simmered down a little, and Clarke had actually noticed some likable traits in the older Blake, but they had never really spent much time alone or really had a proper conversation. 

Now he stood in front of her with a contemplative expression, sizing her up and when he opened his mouth he asked the last thing she was expecting him to say: “Would you like a cup of tea?” 

It took her a second to realize that he was being considerate before accepting the unusual kindness and nodded. He tipped his head in the direction of the living room and she followed, pushing the news she’d just received into the smallest, darkest corner of her mind. He made her a hot, steaming mug and they sat down on the couch in the middle of the room. 

They sat for a long time, just talking, both carefully avoiding the subject why she was here, but she had to admit it was nice. They got along well when they were talking with and not against each other. He was a good listener, never interrupting her sometimes ridiculous stories, that were nowhere near the tales he could tell from his travels, but he didn’t say anything, just listened patiently, studying her with those dark eyes. 

And when he did talk she was mesmerised. Not only because of the stories he told, about European cities, the architecture and arts and all the places he visited, but also simply because he was fucking beautiful. Not just handsome, but outright beautiful. 

The dust of freckles across his tanned skin looked like somebody had splashed them there with the toothbrush-technique she sometimes used on aquarelles, his dark eyes shimmering when he described the cultural treasures of the old world, the arch of his lips reminding her of the Greek statues. Her hands were itching for some soft pencils and paper to draw out the noble line of his nose and the dark locks framing the face. 

She almost forgot why she was here, why she was sitting in her friend’s apartment at 8 pm and drinking tea with her best friend’s older brother who she barely knew. 

When Octavia arrived, many hours later, they had moved into the kitchen and started making some pasta and her friend smiled brightly when she caught sight of the two of them cutting vegetables for the sauce, still talking and sometimes laughing. 

And when Clarke finally left that evening, she had the feeling that somehow she would be able to make it through this.

 

Of course she couldn’t hide it forever. She had been freaking out for the past five weeks. The only person she’d told was Wells, who lived five states away and could only try to calm her down through their video chats that kept freezing when he was in the middle of a soothing speech. 

He told her to finally tell the others, at least her mother, or Raven, but Clarke could simply not get it over with. Especially not with Raven, she couldn’t tell Raven. 

Finn had happened exactly two months ago. Two months ago he had shattered both their worlds when they found out that they had both been dating the same guy. Clarke and Raven had been best friends since high school and the revelation had been a har bump in their friendship, even though it hadn’t been their fault, even though he had fooled them both. But she couldn’t go and tell her best friend that she was pregnant with her Ex’s child, she just couldn’t do that to Raven. 

She had been feeling rather ill lately, her biorhythm was completely fucked and she couldn’t sleep. People at work had started to make comments on how pale she looked, asking if she was feeling okay and she got more and more fed up with those well-meant comments, having to hold herself back from snapping at them. 

The only silver lining in these weeks had been Bellamy. The two of them had really “hit it off”, as Octavia had put it last week, since their first “real” conversation at her apartment on that ominous day and she had actually grown to like him. Okay, if she was honest she had grown to even more than like him, but she really didn’t have any time for that now, so she tried to keep their relationship to a friendly level, ignoring the flirty undertone he sometimes threw at her and forcing herself to break eye contact when their stares got too intense. 

She hated it, but she was too grateful to have him in her life right now to just throw it away like that. Besides, she was pregnant. It wasn’t as if he was going to get with a pregnant woman in the first few months of moving to a new town for a new job. She wasn’t naïve. The time just wasn’t right.

 

She started to throw up in the mornings, which was particularly inconvenient since she was working at a hospital. She tried to hide it at first, but when the head of her ward got wind of it he sent her home, telling her to recover fully before coming back to work. She could just laugh bitterly at this. 

When she finally told her mother Abby Griffin had gotten this worried look that mingled with disappointment and Clarke’s throat had gotten dry, but after Abby had reassured her that she would be there and support her every second she felt a little better, especially after her mother had wrapped her up in a long hug. 

She started to think of it as a living being, as actual life that was growing inside her, started to touch her belly, trying to feel something even though she knew it was way to early for that. And she felt love for it, such utter selfless, unconditional love that sometimes washed over her like waves and caught her completely off guard. 

 

She had to tell Finn. She knew that, but she dreaded the conversation more than anything she had ever feared. They were in her living room, he was sitting awkwardly on the edge of the couch, pleading expression, trying to catch her eye but didn’t say anything until she spoke. 

“I have to talk to you”, Clarke started, needlessly. 

“Yes, oh god me too, Clarke, you can’t believe how so-“, Finn started but she cut him off before she could hear any of his apologies, apologies that sounded empty and mocking when she thought of Raven’s eyes when they both realised. 

“No, not about that”, she said determined. Finn opened his mouth to say something, but before he could go on she blurted out: “I’m pregnant”. The silence that followed was the most horrible thing she ever had to hear. Finns eyes grew wide and his face grew slack. 

“What”, he finally managed. Clarke didn’t repeat it. “No”, he finally said and her heart sank, even though it didn’t surprise her. “No Clarke, that can’t be, it can’t be mine”. She had to keep herself from snorting, “what’s that supposed to mean”. 

“No I mean… do you want to keep it?”, his eyes were pleading again, but for a completely different reason than before. “Yes”, she said. 

They stared at each other for a few seconds that stretched out between them like an eternity. She looked into his eyes, black marbles, and the only thing she could see was Raven’s face, Raven’s plain confusion when they had listened to the message on her answering machine together that day she had come to visit. 

Finn leaned forward and rubbed his hands over his face. “Okay”, he then said, slowly and got up. “I need a little time to process this”. She nodded. 

He left and she stayed there on the couch, sitting there while the shadows grew darker around here and the street lamps outside flickered to life. When she started crying, there was no one there to hear her.

 

It was a beautiful day out, the sun was just getting used to shining again after the cold winter months and it was warm enough to go outside in a t-shirt once again. 

Clarke rushed along the street, clutching her groceries and trying not to bump into the pedestrians strolling down the sidewalk, enjoying the sun. Raven had announced she would be coming over tomorrow evening. Of course she knew something was up, she had heard it even through the telephone, while Clarke had been avoiding video calls and Skype, knowing she could never hide anything from Raven. 

When she rang the doorbell a deep familiar voice sounded from the answering system by the door: “that you Princess?” Clarke couldn’t help but smile. “It’s me, let your hair down Bellamy”. She heard his chuckle before the buzzer went off. 

It was a little worrying how fast she reacted to him already. Not a good sign, she told herself, she should really get herself under control. But when the door swung open and he greeted her with a grin and helped her with the grocery-bags she couldn’t do anything about the warm feeling that spread through her stomach. 

They shuffled into the kitchen. Cooking together had kind of become their thing, something they shared, a safe space for her in which she could forget about Finn and Raven and the new life inside her for a moment and they would talk and make stupid jokes and bicker amicably or more that amicably. 

She sighed and leaned against the counter while he unpacked the bags and tried not to look at him too obviously. “A little help here?”, he asked and she sent him a glance, “forgive me Milady, at your leisure of course”, he corrected himself. 

“I really don’t know where that nickname comes from”, she started washing the vegetables. She really couldn’t remember when he had started calling her Princess, but she would be lying if she said she disliked it. 

“You’re the daughter of Abby Griffin”, he stated, “you’re basically royalty in this town”. Clarke scrunched up her nose at the thought of that. What a scandal it would be when it came out that Princess Clarke Griffin had gotten herself knocked up before even finishing her degree. 

She felt his eyes on her and when she looked up she saw him turning back to his task with a small smile playing on his lips. A sudden rush of nausea had her grab the edge of the counter for support. She breathed through her nose and tried not to let anything show but he had noticed, of course, and was stretching out a worried hand, “you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah”, Clarke waved his hand away and tried to calm her squirming stomach, “All good, get back to work.” Bellamy hesitated before turning back to the food. She felt a little light headed, but that might also have something to do with the wine they had opened up. 

She grabbed the knife from across Bellamy’s workspace and when she leaned forward, she felt his breath ghost across her neck, because no, of course he could not just move an inch back to give her space, and a prickling sensation spread down her skin. She looked up at him, looming way to close over her and saw that his eyes were glued to her lips. She couldn’t help it, her gaze flickered down to his in response. 

It took all the strength in her to pull back and take a step away from the counter. She heard him sigh a little and smiled in spite of herself. “So, when’s Octavia coming home tonight?”, Clarke asked. 

“I’m not too sure if she will be coming home, she said something about staying over at Lincoln’s”, Bellamy answered nonchalantly, but the look in his eyes betrayed him. She felt an odd sensation rush through her. 

But she couldn’t do it, she wouldn’t do that to him. Not while she was.. she couldn’t finish her thought, because suddenly a dizziness had taken hold of her and she felt the ground shifting suddenly beneath her. Next thing she knew the kitchen floor was rushing towards her. “What the fuck”, she wasn’t sure if she actually said it out loud or just in her head. 

The next time she opened her eyes she was in Bellamy’s arms, caught half way to the floor. His shell-shocked expression would have been funny if she wasn’t so confused. “Wha-“, she managed to get out. Bellamy seemed just as perplexed as her. 

“Clarke what the hell”, he finally managed. She felt completely normal, well, not completely, the firm feeling of Bellamy’s strong, muscled arms wrapped around her waist was a little hard to shake, but other than that she had been feeling alright. “Did I just..”, she started. 

“You fainted, straight into my arms”, Bellamy finally seemed to shake off the surprise and a shit eating grin spread across his face, “you know if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes”, he teased and that was it, she couldn’t take it any longer, she felt the tears building up and quickly slipped out of his arms. But of course he had seen it and when he followed her into the living room his voice was much softer, “Clarke, what’s the matter”. Her heart ached at the sound. 

She sat down and he beside her. She had to tell him. She cleared her throat, trying to force back the tears that were building up behind her eyes. She would not cry. 

“I’m pregnant”, she said in a strangled voice. He looked at her with such warmth in his eyes that she almost couldn’t bear to look at him. 

“I know”, he said then. She didn’t know what to say to that. 

“Finn’s the father”, she added. 

“I figured”, was his answer. Octavia must have told him about what had happened to Raven and her. Bellamy still didn’t freak out, or back away. Clarke couldn’t pin down his behaviour. What did this mean? 

“You knew?”, she asked, feeling weak all of a sudden. All the tension of lying to him had suddenly drained away. 

Bellamy reached out a hand and tucked a hair behind her ear, then he pulled her in and wrapped his arms around her without saying anything else and Clarke held on to him, tightly, burying her face in his chest, breathing in his scent, onions and tomato and a tinge of pepper. She sighed and when she pulled away, she was wearing a worried frown. 

“Bellamy we can’t do this”, she said, trying her best to meet his steady gaze, “I just got out of this thing with Finn, you just started a job and I am having a child for god’s sake, and I have to do this on my own..”. 

To her irritation he was smiling. He took her hand, “relax Princess, I didn’t say anything”. She was confused, where did that leave them. 

“God can you stop thinking for one second”, Bellamy asked, exasperated but fondly. She couldn’t. Clarke averted her gaze and stared at the coffee table, until he turned her head back towards him, forcing her to look at him. 

His expression was sure and intent when he said: “I’m not going anywhere”. 

He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, soft and sweet and promising. Then he stood and pulled her up with him. 

“Come on, we need to get this dinner ready”. She was still unsure where they stood but in that moment she really didn’t care. 

And when she met his smile while he started chopping away again she had the feeling that maybe, maybe the future wasn’t all that intimidating anymore.

 

She told Raven the following day. To her great surprise her best friend sighed a long, exasperated sigh and then wrapped Clarke in a hug for at least five minutes. 

When she pulled away Raven gave her a little smack on the head, “did you really think that a kid could change anything between us, you dumbtwat?”, she asked angrily and Clarke laughed, and the cried, and then laughed again when her best friend hugged her a second time and whispered in her ear that she would make an awesome aunt for the kid and how she’d learn him or her everything there was to know about cars and engines. 

Clarke smiled. This would be quite the ride.


End file.
